Hetalia U
by MidniteDancer
Summary: Two half-brothers are enrolled in an odd school. Every person is a country. While Canada immedatly hits it off with Prussia, America is already having run ins with the older students. But then there's that English guy...  AU, Gakuen
1. Chapter 1

"So what about an American?"

"I don't even know how we'd start to go about this."

"How'd they find out? This whole program's supposed to have been kept under wraps."

"You know how their media is."

"I thought the British were worse."

"Really, you underestimate Fox News."

A sigh, "All these applicants, all four thousand of them, are all perfectly eligible—"

"It's not just about eligibility. Remember the others were not only qualified, but they caught our eye somehow."

"… They best matched their country. That's what we're trying to accomplish."

The other sighed, "They're all American. They all thoroughly understand their country's history. I don't know—"

"Do you remember the one we picked form Canada?"

"… No."

"Matthew… something. His file's here somewhere. But he has an American half-brother. I don't think he applied but…"

"I think I remember who you're talking about. But do you think he's eligible?"

"Look at all who we have already and just put him in. That's the earth."

"But if he doesn't know his history-?"

"He's American, why wouldn't he know?"

"…"

"… Point taken. That's easily found out. We send him the scholarship test."

"Fine with me. But if he's unqualified?"

"Then we pull a name.

~X~

Alfred Jones cantered back to the stables after hearing his father call. Liberty's chestnut coat gleamed in the sunlight, fading to white on her lower legs, betraying her speed. Alfred felt the warmth of the sun on his skin. Shirtless horse riding as an embarrassing guilty pleasure, and today was one of the last days warm enough to do so.

School was going to begin again soon. Not that he minded, it was just so _dull_. Literally _nothing_ ever happened. He could almost say that he was excited for college, just for a challenge of some kind.

When he returned to the barn, he put Liberty in her stall before removing the saddle and bridle. He took care brushing her down. If it was urgent his father would have met him out here. When he finished he went into the house, grabbing his shirt first, jumping over some chickens and a cat in the process.

Their place wasn't big; it didn't need to be with just the two of them. One story, six rooms, and they only used the sixth one when Mattie came to visit. His parents had divorced only months after he was born, a guilty point in his life that he never really got over. When he was eight he discovered that his mother was living in Canada with her new husband and son, two years his junior. He'd begged his father for weeks afterwards to let him go see him. His mother agreed. The first time he'd went to Canada it was for three weeks starting at Thanksgiving break. He and his brother took to each other immediately, wreaking havoc for the whole of those three weeks. Now it was back and forth, but they still stayed very close.

Back in the house, he found his father reading the paper in the living room. Without looking up he pointed to a letter on the coffee table. Alfred grabbed it and flopped onto the one end of the couch.

The envelope was thick, made of a coarse, creamy paper. His name and address were scripted elegantly on the front but it lacked a stamp or a return address. Sealing it closed was a blob of dried wax stamped with an ornate 'H'. He got very excited when he realised he finally got his Hogwarts acceptance letter. _Holy shit! It's only six years late!_

None too gently, he whipped out a pocket knife and slashed the top. All of his childhood hopes and dreams died when he saw it wasn't parchment, but normal paper. Well, maybe not _normal_. It could be classified more as stationary. Off-white with a deep purple letterhead, complete with the ornate 'H', it was boringly typed.

_Dear Alfred Jones,_

_We are the board of the esteemed establishment, Hetalia University. You probably haven't heard of us but you've probably heard of our alumni. But that's a story for a later date._

_We are contacting you now to inform you that you are eligible to become a fully enrolled student. We have accessed your grades and personal information and would be pleased to have you._

_But protocol requires us to request you take our application test. You have the option to either accept or refuse. Should you accept meet us at your high school his Saturday at 10 am. Should you refuse, don't._

_As some slight background information of the University; we were established in a year lost to records, although it was long before America wad discovered. We'll detain our location for the time being. Hetalia University's goals are to educate the special youths of the world, hand picked under special qualifications; to teach toleration to each new generation; to bring those all over together; and to establish a hope for the future. There are three classes a day, but they're optional. However, there are exams at the end of each class, regardless of whether or not you attended. Failure of even one of these exams will result in expulsion. _

_But that's why we have the application test. Should you decide to take it, your scores and enrolment status will be sent to you two weeks after you take it. The rest of the information will also be sent to you at that time. _

_We hope to see you this Saturday!_

_ Romulus Vargas, Head of the Board of Hetalia University_

Alfred blinked a few times before handing it wordlessly to his father.

"_We have accessed your grades and personal information"? "Enrolment"? "Established a year lost to records… Hand picked"? What the fu-?_

"So?"

"Hmm?"

His father looked at him casually, "So, you gonna take it?"

"You think it's legit?"

He shrugged and began refolding the letter, "Sure. Fox News has been covering it."

"But they're saying it may be a hoax."

"According to this letter, they may want it that way."

"But why on earth would they 'hand pick' me? I didn't even know the place existed."

His father leaned forward, elbows on his knees. It was rare to see such a serious side compared to his nearly permanent laid-back attitude, "Alfred, I knew from the beginning that you were special. You're brilliant. I've deeply considered allowing you to skip a year or three just to present you with a challenge. I don't know what they're lookin for but, unless it's some dumb damn phonie they seem to now have an abundance of, you'll be fine."

Alfred's expression brightened, "So, this Saturday?" He nodded and Alfred fist pumped, "I need to call Mattie!" and sped out of the room. His father watched him, smiling warmly at his son.

* * *

><p>I was looking for something to write about then this tumbled into my head. ... Then another story tumbled into my head (I'll put more of that up when I get more into it). I have to admit, there's about four chapters of just setting this story up.<br>Honestly, I'm not even entirely sure where it's going yet...

I don't own Hetalia. If I did bad things would happen. There's always something wrong in the spelling and/or grammar so be prepared for that. Human names used now, country names later. This _will_ become a UsUk fic eventually. AU

Things'll be slow going, I have college stuff to fill out and do and performances this weekend.

And I just really wanted to write a shirtless-Alfred-on-a-horse scene


	2. Chapter 2

Alfred paced by the mailbox anxiously. Two weeks ago he'd taken the test that would determine whether or not he could go to this weird foreign school. When he'd called his brother they'd both were surprised to find out that the other too received a letter. Matthew's, though, was one of acceptance. He wished Alfred luck; he'd be ecstatic if he knew someone at this place.

Alfred too would love to finally go to school with his brother. So that Saturday, hew went to the high school, nervous as hell but feeling confident. He'd been met outside by some big bald dude who looked like he was part of the secret service. He was lead into the cafeteria where, on a single table, was a packet of paper and three sharpened No. 2 pencils. There was no one else in there. Unnerved, he glanced at the man who stared at something other than him behind dark shades before taking a seat. As soon as he sat a bored sounding female voice broke out over the intercom, nearly making Alfred piss himself, "You have three hours to finish as much of the test in front of you as possible. Begin how." He took a deep breath or two, trying to keep his heart in his ribcage, before picking up a pencil.

_That test was all history, mostly American History. I so totally aced it._ He ignored the stupid voice in the back of his head with practiced ease.

Suddenly, around the bend in the road came a shiny, black Mercedes-Benz. He blinked in shock as it slowed to stop in front of him. A dark window in the back slid down, revealing a man with brown hair, curls sticking out at odd placed, dark shades, and an impeccable suit. He smiled a slightly roguish smile and handed the stunned American a familiar envelope, "Congratulations," he had an Italian accent, "Instructions are inside. I'll see you next month!" Alfred stood stunned as the window rolled up, covering the now waving man as the car rolled away.

After it was out of sight he noticed he was holding the letter. Neatly slicing open the top with his picket knife he pulled out the first sheet of paper. He read it with a growing smile on his face before letting out a whoop and running back inside.

~X~

Alfred nearly hummed with excitement as he stepped off one plane in order to get onto another. But he focused less on gate number and more on the people. It didn't take long for his eyes to alight on bright purple eyes. Dropping his carry-on he ran and tackled his sorely unprepared brother to the ground, "Mattie!"

"Alfred! Was that absolutely necessary?" he scowled as he hugged back, "Yes, yes, good to see you again too. Now let me up!" He did so, pulling his brother up with him.

Most people mistook them as twins. Both of nearly the same height, Mattie barely an inch or so shorter, tall and well built, similar facial structure, and with wide, genuine smiles when prompted; Matthew was younger by two years.

Matthew, though, had slightly longer hair of a pale gold colour instead of Alfred's gold wheat. And, instead of Alfred cowlick, he had one strand of curly hair that he refused to cut. The most notable difference though was in eyes, Alfred's being a bright, midday blue, while Matthew's were the purple of twilight.

Granted, most of that no one noticed as Matthew tended to draw very little attention, boarder-lining invisible actually. People only _really_ take notice to his eyes when filled with bloodlust as he barrels towards them in a hockey rink. But that's a story for another time.

"You have not idea how relieved I am that you're coming Al!"

"I know! Man, I was worried for a second or two." He paused, an arm still slung over his brother's shoulders, "So, are we gonna be in the same grade, even though you're younger?"

Matthew though a moment, "I don't know how that works." They shrugged simultaneously.

An annoyed female voice, similar to the one at Alfred's high school, sounded through the building. Normally, the brothers would have ignored it but a word caught their attention, "—Hetalia University please get down to Gate 1 already." Then it was said again in Italian and another language that they figured to be some weird Nordic language or something. "Alright! Where are we now?"

They looked. Gate 63. "… Well, lets get moving, eh?"

~X~

They'd eventually found the gate at the other end of the terminal, played rummy for a half hour before they were called to board. Looking around, Alfred saw that only two other people were waiting with them. Some olive skinned brunette with a weird curl coming out from the side of his head was drawing in a sketch pad, an intent look on his handsome features. The other was a pale featured silver-haired boy with his own curl pinned back with a cross barrette and a serious countenance. He was listening to an ipod. _These few people to fill a plane?_

They showed the woman their boarding passes and acceptance letters without speaking to each other, in general airport fashion. Alfred continued to look behind them, expecting a hoard of people or something to swamp them at any time. It didn't happen. Instead, they were ushered onto the plane and everything fled his mind.

_This has to be what being__Tony Stark__feels like!_ It was exactly like the private jet of his dreams looked like! Leather chairs and benches faced huge LED TV's. It was wood panelled and carpeted, spacious but comfortably furnished, and more hi-tech than anything in his house. Alfred nearly drooled, "Dude! This is so cool!" He tossed his luggage onto a chair and began to explore.

He heard soft footsteps follow and saw a sunny Italian following, "Ve~ It's just like Grandpa's!"

Alfred froze, "Your _Grandfather_ has a private jet?" The boy nodded, curl bouncing.

A pretty flight attendant stood to talk to them, "If you'll all sit please, we'll take off immediately." Alfred jumped over the back of a leather couch and planted himself in it. The Italian fluttered around to sit on one side of him while Matthew sat on the other side. True to the stewardess's words, the plane began to leave the dock.

Feeling the Italian bounce excitedly beside him he turned to look at him. Dressed sharply in a suit of a make Alfred was unaware of but knew was expensive, it certainly looked like he had money, though whether from business or… something else he was unsure (he'd seen The Godfather, he knew shit went down). He was small, lithe, with a light olive tan colouration. Smiling caramel eyes found his, "Ve~ I'm Feliciano Vargas!"

Alfred knitted his brow. _Vargas. Vargas… Where have I-?_ He felt Matthew, who'd been listening, lean around him, "You wouldn't happen to be related to a Romulus Vargas, would you?"

"Ve! Grandpa Rome is the Dean at Hetalia!"

"Really?" Matthew continued, "Do you know much about this school?"

"Of course! My older brother actually goes here!" he paused, "Which is kind of odd because they already had an Italy…" The brothers exchanged confused glances.

When they figured that the Italian had spaced out Matthew asked, "So how does the enrolment work? How do they find us and put us into grades?"

"Ve, it doesn't matter how old you are, although there's probably some guidelines. Schools all over the world keep track of their students. If they show talent Hetalia is looking for they send out the letters. But only if their country's open."

"Uh," Alfred eloquently put, "Countries?"

"_Si_. While there are some exceptions, each country in the world has a representative at Hetalia. While you're there that's what you're called!"

"So, I'd be… Canada?" Matthew asked.

"_Si!_ And, er…"

"I'm Matthew and this is my brother, Alfred."

"Ve! Brothers!" _Why did he sound so surprised? Didn't he notice?_ "_Questo è grande!_ It's weird but kinda unexpected. A good few of the students are related or know each other somehow. Soon, Romano and I will both be Italy, and most of the Asian nations are related."

"Wait," Alfred interjected, "How can you _both_ be Italy?"

"Well, we've always been governed separately, North and south. North Italy was under Austria's rule most of the time while Spain had South Italy. But I had a feeling Grandpa pulled a few strings," the bubbly Italian seemed to deflate, "I'm happy but I wish he'd stop favouring us like this." He shook his head and sighed.

Matthew took advantage of the lull, "So, is that what they meant when they said 'to teach toleration to each new generation and to bring those all over together'?"

"Wow, Matt, you memorised that?"

"Shut up Al."

Feliciano nodded, "Hetalia University was developed under those principles. Ve, the founders were tired of seeing everyone being so mean to each other so they strove to teach love~ It doesn't always work though. The America and Russia of the 50's and 60's always fought, and Germany of the 40's wasn't very nice…"

They were cut off by the food cart coming around, all of it free. Matthew got a sandwich and Alfred a burger but Feliciano was appalled that there was no pasta and promptly went off to fix that problem. When he was gone the brothers looked at each other, "Well, this is going to be interesting," Alfred said between munches.

Matthew swallowed his bite before speaking, "Exciting you mean. I adore Canada but _nothing_ interesting happens. I only go to school so I don't develop cabin fever and several forms of depression."

"You're telling me. My tech class makes me feel like I'm backing second grade again, but less cool because computers were awesome and new back then."

Matthew nodded knowingly, "Especially in that dump you call a school." Alfred nodded.

The brothers sat in quiet understanding, nomming on their food as each other thought the same thing. _Something big's gonna happen here, it has to._

~x~X~x~

Questo è grande!-That's great!

* * *

><p>Heeey look it's ... that guy. I'm gonna try to make him more badass than in Brothers.<br>Lots of skipping around here...

Any and all languages other than English are translated online.


End file.
